


Dreams of Dearh

by Depressed_and_band_obsessed



Category: Suicide Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressed_and_band_obsessed/pseuds/Depressed_and_band_obsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rue is a 13 year old girl who has been struggling with depression. TRIGGER WARNING!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams of Dearh

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So I used to have an account, but I forgot my password. This is my only work from that account. This was my very first story. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget about feedback!

Work Text:

My life was great. My mom and dad were paid very well, I had good grades, but little did I know my life could change so quickly.

I woke up one day and looked into my full-length mirror. I took a picture of myself. That became a habit. I Didn't know why. I looked at my first picture. Then my most recent. It looked as if i had gained weight. A lot of weight. I stepped onto the scale in my parents closet; I weighed 180.9lbs. That was the day my life changed.

For the next month, I skipped meals. I didn't want my parents to notice so I ate only a little bit of dinner each night. I didn't eat lunch at school anymore and I didn't eat breakfast. I started losing weight.

Within a two weeks time, I became worce. I got some pills so after dinner I'd take enough to throw up my food. One night I got so sick my mom heard me. She ran upstairs and called an ambulance. I was hospitalized. I almost died. After that experience, I became much more fond of death.

Chapter Two

Once I got home from the hospital, I had gained what weight I had lost. I just needed a warm shower and some sleep. I got undressed and turned on the water. I sat there just reflecting on everything that happened. Suddenly, tears escaped from my eyes. I opened them and saw something flash on the edge of the tub. My razor. I picked it up and fingerd it. Finally I put it up against my wrist and slid it across my wrist. It stung for a few seconds, but then it felt strangely good. I watched the blood drip down to the surface of the tub and gained satisfaction. Again and again I did it, but for once I was happy.

Chapter Three  
(Three months later)

I never got better since then. I only got worse. I couldn't seem to loose weight, but my wrists and thighs were full. My mom filed a divorce because "It is your father's fault you're this way!". That made it even worse. My grades had started to suffer and my friends turned their backs on me. Finally, I went back to the start of it all. My full length mirror. I put the nicest dress I owned and wrote my note. I put it on my pillow along with an old family photo. I snuck into my dad's closet and took out his pistol and loaded it. I stood in front of my mirror and pulled the trigger. 

Epilogue 

The funny thing is, I'm not even sure why I did it. Maybe I was just fed up with my life or I was all alone. Who knows. It do sent even matter anymore now that I'm dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback! Please comment your tips and give me kuttos! Please?


End file.
